Yael
by MissWitterstrand
Summary: [D/S][One-shot][Shego-centric] She would be fierce, elegant, like those who came before her.


When coming to, the first sight one experiences should not be a hospital room, even if one is completely used to the idea of injury. Shego's eyes finally fluttered open, greeted by the heavy light when having previously felt weightless. She tried to move but her thighs burned as if she had been scratching at them with her hands aglow. Her belly felt deflated; the flatness of being rolled out like dough after being molded into a specific shape for all time.

She tried again to lift herself amongst the pillows, but only felt the burning and the tugging of the IV at her wrist. Hydrangeas were in a vase next to her, but she could not lift herself to read the card.

"Rise and shine, Shego," She turned her head to the voice. Dr. Drakken greeted her with a gentle kiss on the lips. She lightly banged her head on the railing of the bed.

"No, no, no. I missed—"

"No, you were awake for all that."

"I don't remember."

"You must've blacked out then. You didn't take a pain killer."

"Because I could handle it. Shit."

He helped her sit up and she winced. Her eyes followed the finger pointing next to her; head following slowly after them. A heaviness filled Shego's head like she had just received a blow from Miss Perfect. Her self sprawled out across the room where she could watch her own arms reach for the bundle beside her. "Mystery solved," she tried to say without vomiting. "She's pink."

There was silence, but Drakken could see the shallow heave of her chest and knew what was coming. Her eyelids flickered and she waved her hand in front of her face, whispering something about hormones. Her hand wrung out towards the door. "M-mom. She's here right? Get her."

He faltered.

"Now!"

Shego willed herself to not look down at her baby's eyes, knowing she would spew. Her mother's face gave her the same feeling when she entered. Mrs. Go traded the puke platter for the infant. Shego's stomach heaved. Nothing came out but the yellow fluid of an empty stomach, bitter and acidic.

"Good to see you, too, Sarah," her mother said, a rueful smile on her face as she gently bounced the baby in her arms. God, no one called her that anymore.

"Ugha. . . Not now," Shego whispered, holding her head.

"A little late for second thoughts, yes?"

Shego fell back against the pillows, her entire body heavy once again. Her mother sat beside her. She noticed her mother's hair, once pitch black, had grey creeping into it. Crow's feet pinched the outsides of her eyes. Her own hand started to shake. The other massaged it, willing it not to.

"I never thought you'd be the first to give me grandchildren," her mother cooed, never looking away from her granddaughter.

"Yeah, well, Heg- Henry couldn't get laid if he had a harem."

"He's a handsome boy."

"Doesn't mean he's not a self-righteous prick. You didn't. They're here aren't they? I told Drew-"

"Hush. He had nothing to do with it. Besides they'll be by later. This is a celebration, Sarah. Why don't you want your family here?"

Shego groaned, her face in her hands. "The same reason I eloped."

Her mother smiled, placing the baby in her arms. Shego tried to wave her off, trying to both divert attention away from her shaking hands and attract notice to them. She felt heat accumulate in her hands. "Mom, I can't-"

"Nonsense, take her. See? There we go."

"I could burn her."

"There are worse things," Mrs. Go whispered, tucking pink cloth into her daughter's arms. "You knew if you didn't want this there was an alternative."

Shego's head snapped towards her mother from where she had intently stared at a wall in order to avoid the baby's sleeping and scrutinizing face. She bit her tongue, swallowing all the words that wanted to come tumbling out. They beat against her teeth, rattling her skull. Her hands grew hot again. "I was not _stuck_," she hissed. "I'm trying to gain some sort of normalcy."

"Normal? You want normal from having children?" her mother threw her head back to laugh. She always smiled. Mrs. Go pushed some of her daughter's hair back with a sigh.

"You picked the wrong job this time, Sweetie. This one's for life. And not her life, yours."

The weighty knot between her brow returned. Her mother kissed it. "I prayed you would have a girl so that my retribution could finally be unleashed."

"Gee, thanks."

The child stirred in Shego's arms. "She's probably hungry. You passed out before you could feed her."

The heat returned again. Her mother hushed her, helping her adjust the hospital gown. Mrs. Go shook her head at her daughter's exposed breast. "That's a damn shame. I'll give Drew my condolences."

"Give mine to Dad."

Her mother laughed. "Alright, she knows what to do. I'll let Drew in. He looked like he was about to collapse."

Shego shifted a little. "Could you not?"

She leaned into her daughter a little and whispered, "Honey, you chose 'im." She gave Shego a last smile before moving aside to let Drakken in. He raised his brow at his wife. She waved him off. "Don't get any ideas about big family reunions."

He smiled as he sat beside her. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Mama Lipsky's high-pitched voice echoed within the room to ungodly levels, disturbing any hope of the peace Shego so desperately wanted to cling to.

"She's my grandbaby, too, ya know!"

"Mother, not right now. . ."

"Nonsense, Drewbie, I've waited this long."

"Which is why a few more moments won't hurt."

"She's right, Drewbie," Shego said. "Besides, I have something I want to say to Mama Lipsky."

Drakken's hands quivered with each other. Shego and Mrs. Lipsky were not a good combination. His mother crossed her arms. The sass was inevitable. His eyes widened when he saw Shego take one of Mama Lipsky's hands.

"Mama Lipsky, I want you to know that I've thought about it and I want our daughter to be raised in the faith."

"Shego," Drakken said through his teeth and into his wife's ear. "_We _did not talk about this."

"Because I just decided right now," she answered.

Her mother-in-law's face brightened. She clasped her hands. "Oh, how wonderful! You mean it?"

"Oh yeah, Mama, baptism, bat mitzvah, the whole shebang."

"We don't _practice_," Drakken was frantic.

"That doesn't mean she can't."

"There's so much to prepare! I'll have to go and get everything ready when you arrive home," Mama Lipsky said, rushing to give her shocked son a goodbye smooch before darting out the door.

"Why would you do that?" he groaned.

"She can't live that much longer, might as well make her last days meaningful."

Drakken gave her pained look. "Ooh, good practice, Daddy. Besides it isn't for you, it's for Baby Girl Lipsky," Shego said as she read the card on the plastic bin the hospitals liked to call a bassinet. She patted his arm in a half apology.

"Yael," she whispered as she finally decided to look into her own daughter's face which was soft without judgement.

"What?"

"Yael. That is her name."

"Shouldn't we have deliberated on that?"

"Ya know I just pushed her, something the size of a watermelon, out of my body, which carried her for nine months, through something the size of a lemon. You put her in there so I'm gonna have to say no."

"What does it mean?"

"You mean you don't know? It's Hebrew."

Drakken shook his head. She never met his gaze, only kept contact with the child suckling, wiggling her warm finger in Yael's little fist.

"Yael was in the book of Judges," she said softly. "She put a tent stake through a man's head to save Israel."

"I didn't think you were spiritual."

"I'm not, but I'm not doing this for myself," Shego finally let her eyes meet her husband's. "I want her to take life by the balls." One hand travelled to the familiar pelvis beside her to lightly emphasis her point.

"Like mother like daughter."

"Mazel Tov."


End file.
